


Ellie's Giant

by cordelia_gray



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Muteness, POV Outsider, mute!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordelia_gray/pseuds/cordelia_gray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mute giant with sad eyes lives at the end of Ellie's street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ellie's Giant

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post of a comment-fic written for the 6-month anniversary comment-fic [meme](http://community.livejournal.com/ohsam/44339.html) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/ohsam/profile)[**ohsam**](http://community.livejournal.com/ohsam/), for [](http://letoist.livejournal.com/profile)[**letoist**](http://letoist.livejournal.com/)'s prompt: _Sam stopped speaking for a long time. Happy ending?_

When Ellie was seven, a giant came to live in the little house in the park at the end of her street.

When he first came, the giant was tall and pale and thin, with an angry red scar across his cheek. He had come to work as a caretaker in the park, to pick up litter, open and close the showers and restrooms, chase the teenagers away when they came to party all night by the barbecue pit. The grown-ups had all had different ideas about who he was and how he came to be there – _plane crash survivor,_ or _war vet–PTSD, you know,_ or _witness protection program_ – but nobody really knew.

And nobody could ask the giant, because he never spoke.

Ellie was scared of him, at first. Most of the neighborhood kids were. But one day when her kite (the one her dad gave her for her birthday) got hopelessly entangled in the trees, the giant climbed up and rescued it for her, and they were friends ever after. “Thank you,” she said, staring up at him. “My name’s Ellie.” He knelt down and wrote his name (“Sam”) in the dusty parking lot with a stick.

Ellie went home and made a thank-you card for Sam the giant, with stickers and glitter and a drawing of Sam reaching up into the tree to get her kite. He smiled when she gave it to him, dimples suddenly appearing, and Ellie thought that maybe he wasn’t very old after all, maybe not even as old as her mom.

It wasn’t until after the Fourth of July picnic, when someone’s dog attacked a little boy named Joshua, that the rest of the neighborhood began to accept him. Sam the giant seemed to materialize out of nowhere, pulled the dog off with his bare hands, and carried the boy into his house. Later, they said his quick actions and first aid skills had probably saved, if not the boy’s life, certainly a lot of pain and scarring. After that, Joshua’s mother baked him a pie every week, and he became accepted as a fixture of the area, though he never went to anybody’s house, or had anyone visit, as far as Ellie could tell.

As time went by, the giant began to look less gaunt, more tanned and healthy. His hair grew long and shaggy, dark brown except for one streak of pure white. He grew a scruffy beard to hide the scar, though it faded over the years, leaving only a faint silvery mark where it had been.

Ellie thought he had the saddest eyes of anyone she’d ever met.

The giant never seemed to leave the park. He got groceries delivered once a week, and sometime Ellie would see the mailman arrive with packages for him, mostly seeming to contain books. He always seemed to hide in his house when the park was busy (“I think he’s afraid of crowds,” Ellie’s mom said, though Ellie didn’t think he was afraid of anything.)

Ellie was in his house once, another Fourth of July picnic, when her dad burned himself on the barbecue and Ellie was sent to ask if he had a first aid kit. When she knocked on the door, he came to open it. He’d been exercising, she could tell, because he was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and there was an exercise mat on the floor. Ellie tried very hard not to stare, because she’d never seen a man with that many muscles, or that many scars. The faint silvery marks covered his torso, front and back, and she couldn’t imagine what terrible thing had happened to him.

The giant just nodded, when she told him what had happened. He threw on a shirt, got a first aid kit, and went to help, silently as always.

When Ellie learned the word “Spartan” she always pictured her giant’s house. There was a bench running the length of one wall, with a bed neatly made on it, a duffel bag at one end as though he were ready to leave at a moment’s notice, although he’d been there for years. There was a table with two chairs, and a laptop on it. There was a shelf full of books, and a rack with weights and other exercise equipment, and doors at the far end into a small bathroom and an equally spotless, bare kitchen.

That was all – no TV or stereo or Xbox, no art or knickknacks or photos of family, not even a houseplant.

When Ellie was twelve, someone finally came for her giant. She saw him come to the door, a big man in a leather jacket, and he showed her mom a photo. Ellie’s mom shook her head and sent him away, but Ellie watched the man trudging up the walk to every house on her street, and when he went back to his big black car, he leaned against it for a moment with his head in his hands, and Ellie felt like she just had to talk to him. She slipped out around the side of the house.

“Hey Mister,” she said. “Can I see that picture?” He nodded and handed it to her. She recognized him right away, though he was young and unscarred and clean-shaven, and laughing in the photo, with the same big black car in the background. “Who is he?” she asked, returning the picture. She could see him start to bring out the story he’d told her mother – something about being a private detective – but he stopped, looked at her, and said: “He’s my brother, and I lost him a long time ago.”

Ellie thought he must be telling the truth, because he had the second-saddest eyes of anyone she’d ever met.

“I’m Ellie,” she said, “and that’s my giant.”

He smiled then, his eyes crinkling a little, and Ellie felt warmer suddenly. “Follow me, I’ll show you where he lives.”

“Thanks, Ellie,” the man said. “I’m Dean”.

“Did he talk, before you lost him?” Ellie asked as they walked. She knew it was probably none of her business, but she couldn’t help it.

“Did he talk?” Dean said sharply. “You mean he doesn’t talk? Like at all?”

Ellie nodded.

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean muttered, and Ellie knew it was rude to swear, but she could forgive him, under the circumstances.

She led him down to the end of the street and across the park to the little house. She knocked on the door, and then stood aside so that when Sam opened it, Dean was the first thing he saw.

They just stared at each other for a moment, and then Dean said “Sam? Oh God, Sammy! What happened to you?” and then they were hugging, like they were trying to merge somehow, become one person. And then Dean was patting Sam down like he was looking for wounds, checking his scars, saying “what did they do to you,” over and over, half-laughing, half-crying.

Ellie stood back, torn between feeling like she should leave and let them have their privacy, and being unable to tear herself away.

She was rewarded for staying, though, when she heard her giant speak for the first time in all the years she’d known him.

“Dean,” he said. “Dean.” Like it was the only thing in the world worth saying.


End file.
